The Laird's Yuletide Bride (Highland Bodyguards, Book 9.5)

by Emma Prince

Belatedly, Adelaide realized she’d sunk onto the mattress, her legs no longer seeming to work properly.

  After Euna had been married, she’d told Adelaide what happened between a man and a woman. Yet looking at all Fillan’s masculine lines and angles, she wasn’t sure if it would work. His manhood already jutted rigidly from his body. He seemed far too big, too hard for her to take.

  “Dinnae be afraid.” He must have easily read her face, for his voice was gentle as he moved to the bed. “We are made to be joined, sweeting. There will be some discomfort, but just this first time. After that, it will only be pleasure.”

  Euna had said the same thing. And if Fillan’s kiss was any indication, there could be a great deal of pleasure between them.

  He found the laces running down the back of her gown and began working them loose. When they were undone, she stood and shimmied the gown off her shoulders and down her hips. It puddled in a blue pool of wool at her feet. Standing in naught but her linen chemise, she hesitated, suddenly unsure.

  “Ye never have need to be shy with me, Adelaide,” Fillan said, gazing upon her reverently. “Ye are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.”

  Rising to his feet, he laid his hands on her shoulders and skimmed down her arms. His warm touch sent a ripple of gooseflesh over her skin. His hands moved to her waist, then her back, then her hips, always sliding light as a feather’s caress.

  It was almost as if he were afraid to touch her, like she would turn to mist beneath his hands if he pressed too firmly. He seemed to caress the material of her chemise more than he did her heated skin underneath, and the linen touched her in return. The sensation sent fiery tendrils of desire over her, making her shiver with longing.

  He lowered his head toward her, but instead of kissing her lips, he brushed his mouth along her collarbone. He dropped a kiss into the rapidly pulsing hollow at her throat, then trailed upward until he reached her ear. By the time he flicked and nibbled the sensitive flesh there, a bonfire of need roared low in her belly.

  And when he cupped her breasts in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the pearled peaks, a moan escaped her throat.

  “Please,” she breathed, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking for. Relief from the torturous pleasure and more of it at the same time, she supposed distantly.

  The chemise whispered over her heated skin as he pulled it up and over her head. She stood bare before him now. For one heartbeat, shyness once again prodded her to cover herself, but when she saw the look in Fillan’s dark eyes—part awe, part fierce hunger—she held herself still.

  “God in heaven,” he muttered, drinking in the sight of her.

  Suddenly no longer able to hold himself back, he drew her to the bed. Flicking back the covers, he eased her down. She shivered again at the feel of the cool sheets, but a heartbeat later, Fillan slid in beside her, his body as blazing hot as a forge.

  His lips found hers and she melted into their kiss. She arched into his roaming hands, letting the building sensations chase away her nerves.

  When one of his hands slid between her legs, she instinctively opened to him, trusting in the pleasure his touch would bring. And it did. She gasped as he slipped a finger into the dampness there, tracing around her entrance and over that bud of raw pleasure above it.

  Her breaths grew ragged as he stroked and kissed her. The wild thud of her heart mixed with her moans in her ears, her body drawing taut as the pleasure mounted.

  “Ready?” Fillan’s low voice vibrated through her.

  “Aye,” she panted.

  He moved over her, nestling between her thighs. He took himself in hand until he brushed her entrance. But once he was in position, his fingers returned to that delicious spot just above, circling slowly.

  In response to her building need, she lifted her hips to him, inviting him in. He eased forward slowly, taking her inch by aching inch. Just as he’d warned, discomfort began to swell as he pushed deeper until she gasped in pain.

  He stilled except for the hand between them, which continued to stroke and caress her until pleasure edged out pain and she was panting and moaning once more. As she relaxed, he pushed all the way inside, filling her, stretching her. Claiming her.

  Slowly, he rocked out, then eased forward once again. As she caught his rhythm, she met his strokes. When she rolled her hips, he groaned, the muscles in his neck straining. Oh, she liked that. Liked the pleasure it brought them both, aye, but also liked to see him unravel, his restraint slipping, and all thanks to her.

  He sped his thrusts then, and all thoughts of being in control fled. She felt as though she were climbing toward something, straining for the blinding heat of the sun. And then she reached it. Her pleasure expanded in a white-hot burst. She cried out, trembling and arching as she rode through the ecstasy.

  Just as she began to descend from the heights of her release, Fillan’s own pleasure exploded with shuddering force. He growled her name, holding himself deep before slumping over her.

  Gently, Fillan eased himself beside her and pulled her into his embrace. They caught their breath in silence for a moment.

  “That was…”

  When she couldn’t find the words to describe the powerful connection they’d just shared, Fillan finished for her.

  “That was just the beginning,” he murmured, running his fingers along her bare arm. But when his hand stilled, she lifted her head and found his brows drawn seriously.

  “Ye still think ye can be happy here…with me?”

  “More than happy,” she replied, smoothing his brow with a gentle hand. “For I get to have ye as my husband for all my days.”

  “Aye, wife,” he said, his gaze steady and warm. “I am yers.”

  Epilogue

  “I have a surprise for ye.”

  Fillan looked up from his writing desk, where he’d been penning a missive to Reid about the progress he’d made with Laird MacDonnell.

  Adelaide stood in the doorway of their bedchamber, something held behind her back.

  “Oh?”

  Her soft eyes shone as she nudged the door closed with her foot and stepped toward him.

  “Aye. A present of sorts.”

  He lifted a brow at her. “Yuletide was nigh on a month past, wife, and my birthday isnae for another several months still.”

  “Call it a belated wedding present, then,” she replied, halting before him. Carefully, she drew a large bundle wrapped in wool from behind her back. She set it on the edge of the desk and lifted one corner of the wool to peer inside.

  “This first,” she said, reaching in.

  He lifted a brow. “I get more than one wedding present?”

  She laughed softly. “Well, this first one is more the delivery of a promise I made ye. Hold out yer hands.”

  He did as she bade. When she placed the item in his palms, he recognized it instantly, yet it was different than the last time he’d seen it.

  The wood and leather of his brace was now lined with smooth, dark blue silk.

  “That should help with the chafing,” Adelaide said. “Once ye try it, I can modify or remove the silk wherever it doesnae suit ye, but I thought this was a good start.”

  Eager to test the silk against his skin, he shucked off his boots and slid the brace over his clubbed foot—truly slid, for the silk took away all the friction that had pained him before.

  “It is perfect,” he said, meeting her gaze.

  She beamed at him, but then her smile faltered with uncertainty.

  “Now for the other. This is yer real present, but dinnae feel beholden to use it. I only thought…well, ye’ll see.”

  She drew two more items from the wool wrapping, holding them up for him.

  At first glance, he took them as a normal pair of leather boots. But as he continued to look, he realized one of the boots was different than the other.

  The one for his left foot looked regular enough. But the right boot, the one that would go over his clubfoot, was shaped oddly.


  “I had Tam the cobbler help me with this,” Adelaide said hurriedly. “He made the toe box—and the entire foot-well, really—wider than usual to give yer foot more room. And he wrapped the sole up and around the side so that ye arenae walking on the edge of yer foot without some protection.”

  Sure enough, the boot was wider, and the tougher material of the sole extended up the outside of the foot-well.

  “He also made the space for yer calf a bit roomier,” she continued.

  Confusion hit him at that, for his calf was slimmer on the right side than the left, but she hurried to explain.

  “That way, if ye choose…that is, if ye wish to wear yer brace during the day…” She took a fortifying breath. “It was made so that ye can wear yer brace under it. That way, the clan willnae see it if ye dinnae wish them to.”

  He sat in stunned silence for a long moment, simply staring at the boot.

  “As I said, ye dinnae have to use it. I can ask Tam to fashion ye another boot to match the left one. And if I have overstepped, I ask for yer—”

  “I love ye.”

  They both blinked in surprise at his blurted reply. They hadn’t spoken of love before, but it felt natural say the word now, for it had been growing within his heart for so long.

  He recovered first. “I love ye,” he said again. “And I love them. This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received.”

  “Then I havenae overstepped?” she asked tentatively. “Ye ken I dinnae care if ye wear the brace at night, during the day, over yer boot, or under it.”

  “Aye, I do.”

  “And ye love me?”

  “Of course I do,” he said, giving her a soft smile. “How could I no’?”

  “I love ye, too.” At the shy blush that stole over her cheeks, his heart swelled against his ribs.

  “I cannae wait any longer to try this,” he said, reaching for the boot. He loosened the laces and guided it over his foot and brace. It was no longer a struggle to angle his bent foot into the boot, and it easily encased the brace around his calf. He stood slowly. The brace gave him extra stability, but he used his cane to steady himself as well.

  Gone was the pinching and pain from his old boots. The brace lay smoothly beneath the thick leather. Though his limp would still be evident, he wouldn’t have to display the awkward contraption he wore under the boot if he didn’t wish to.

  “This is…absolutely perfect,” he said, taking a few experimental steps. He fixed her with his gaze. “As are ye, my love.”

  She flushed again, this time with pride. “Tam did most of the work. I only made suggestions. I wasnae sure if ye would mind that I involved him, but he was honored and humbled at the prospect of helping his Laird.”

  “I will be sure to thank him later. But I think I must thank ye first.”

  Adelaide must have caught the gleam in his eyes, for her brows lifted and she gave a breathy chuckle. “But it is the middle of the day!”

  “What does that matter?” He stalked forward, catching her around the waist and pulling her in for a kiss.

  When he released her, she was breathless, her eyes smoldering with desire. Yet he hadn’t quite won her over yet.

  “Dinnae forget that my father is to arrive within the hour to discuss yer new trade agreement.”

  “Let him wait,” he growled, leading her toward their bed. “My lady wife is far more in need of my attention.”

  She followed him willingly, her sweet laughter filling the room. When he reached the bed, he sat down on the edge, drinking in the bonny vision of her smiling face.

  “Come here, my Yuletide bride, and let me show ye how much I love ye.”

  With another joyous laugh, she launched herself into his arms and they tumbled together, their limbs tangling and their hearts lifting as one.

  The End

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  Author’s Note

  As always, it is one of my great joys in writing historical romance to combine a fictional romantic storyline with real historical details. Plus, it’s such a treat to share not only a thrilling, passionate, and emotional love story with you, lovely readers, but to give you a glimpse at my research into the history surrounding this book as well.

  Before the Scottish Reformation of 1560, Christmas in Scotland was known as Yule. Yule is the Scot-ification of the Old Norse word jól, the word for their winter solstice festivities. Yuletide refers not just to Christmas day but the festive season associated with it, which began before Christmas and continued until after the new year.

  Medieval Scottish Yule celebrations were a blend of Christian traditions and the pagan solstice festivities the Vikings brought with them to Scotland, some of which have stuck around to this day.

  Evergreen boughs (an ancient version of the Christmas tree) were brought inside to decorate hearths and rafters. They were meant to represent a celebration of the renewal of life on the darkest days of the year. Mistletoe was also hung overhead. Celtic peoples believed it had magical properties of healing, along with increasing fertility—hence all the kissing that happens beneath it! It was also used to ward off evil and bring good luck to those who passed under it.

  Now a tasty dessert, the Yule log was traditionally an entire tree that was carefully selected and brought inside with great care. One end of the log would be fed into the fire slowly, as it was meant to last for the entire length of Yuletide. Part of the log was saved to light the following year’s log. In between years, the log was kept around to ward off evil, illness, and bad fortune. The ashes of the Yule log were also saved for good luck.

  In addition to evergreen boughs, mistletoe, and a yule log, a Yuletide celebration wasn’t complete without a feast! Medieval feasts would have included mincemeat pies, goose, venison, honeyed bannocks, vegetables, puddings, and of course wine, ale, and mead—and probably some whisky.

  Carols were also sung, but caroling in the medieval era was much different than today. Only one person would sing, accompanied by musicians if they were available, while the rest of the Yuletide revelers danced in a circle or linked chain. It wasn’t until later in the medieval era that carol singers joined together and roamed from house to house, singing in exchange for small gifts. That was because singing carols was banned in churches (serious, somber Christmas masses were being disrupted with too much singing and dancing), so carolers were sent outside.

  Moving on to some medieval wedding traditions, I had fun incorporating the throwing of the garter (another ritual that has survived to the modern day) into this story—though it has a rather shocking origin.

  To ensure that the marriage was consummated, the priest, or sometimes family members of the bride and groom, would follow the newlyweds to their bedchamber and stay to watch. (There really was no such thing as privacy in the medieval era!)

  The observer(s) would then take an undergarment of the bride’s, like the garter, and present it to all those who’d attended the wedding as proof that consummation had taken place. The bride’s clothes were considered good luck, so guests would scramble in hopes of grabbing the garter to keep for themselves.

  Eventually, this practice of observing the consummation and taking the garter grew a bit too invasive for medieval couples. So the groom started removing the bride’s garter and tossing it to the waiting guests before ducking away to consummate their vows in peace. It was also believed that if a husband could somehow retrieve the tossed garter and present it to his bride, then they would have a happy and faithful marriage.

  A final note on my portrayal of Fillan’s clubfoot. Clubfoot is a birth defect that occurs in one out of every one thousand newborns, affecting male babies about twice as often as females. One or both feet rotate inwards, and if it’s not treated, a person will walk on the outside of his foot, creating a limp and walking problems.

  Clubfoot was first dep
icted in ancient Egyptian tomb paintings. Treatments were described in India as early as 1000 B.C.E. Hippocrates wrote about using braces and special shoes to correct clubfoot at around 400 B.C.E.

  In the modern era, people with clubfoot are treated from birth with surgery, or braces and casts that help straighten the foot and stretch the overly-tight ligaments pulling it inward. But in the medieval era, when physical deformity was considered a reflection of weakness of character or moral failing, fewer options were available. While braces were still sometimes used, often barber-surgeons and bonesetters applied overly harsh “remedies”—or the afflicted individual was simply left unaided to deal with their disability.

  That was why it was so important to me to give Fillan (and Adelaide) a happily ever after. When both characters first appeared in The Bastard Laird’s Bride (Highland Bodyguards, Book 6), I knew they would return for their own story, and their own happy ending.

  Thank you for journeying back in time to medieval Scotland with me, and look for more riveting history and unforgettable romance in the tenth book in the Highland Bodyguards series, Will Sinclair’s story, coming in 2019!

  Thank You!

  Thank you for taking the time to read The Laird’s Yuletide Bride (Highland Bodyguards, Book 9.5)!

  And thank you in advance for sharing your enjoyment of this book (or my other books) with fellow readers by leaving a review on Amazon. Long or short, detailed or to the point, I read all reviews and greatly appreciate you for writing one!

  Books by Emma Prince

  Highland Bodyguards Series:

  The Lady’s Protector (Book 1)

  Heart’s Thief (Book 2)

  A Warrior’s Pledge (Book 3)

  Claimed by the Bounty Hunter (Book 4)

  A Highland Betrothal (Novella, Book 4.5)

  The Promise of a Highlander (Book 5)

  The Bastard Laird’s Bride (Book 6)